


Marry Me - Rich People Kylux

by Ryenan



Series: Marry Me for My Money (Prompt) [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, alternate universe - rich people, implied BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8033041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryenan/pseuds/Ryenan





	Marry Me - Rich People Kylux

The car that Hux is currently sitting in, speakers blaring so loud his hearing aids are spitting out whining feedback, is impeccable. Sleek, black, shiny, perfect. The car that has just careened into the spot next to his is black, and that’s where the similarities stop. It’s a growling, dirt and smoke covered monstrosity.

The noisy engine cuts off as a pair of exceptionally long legs slide out of the driver’s side, followed by an overly forceful slam of the door. Hux waits patiently until Kylo stomps around his car, belt buckle and plain black shirt all that’s visible through the window.

Bandaged knuckles, sluggishly bleeding through, rap on his window.

“Hux. Get out of the car.” Kylo’s voice is muffled through the window, barely audible. Hux just rolls the window down, slowly, letting the Alt Metal pouring from the speakers leak out of the car. He turns the volume down just as slowly, then peers at Ren through his sunglasses.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Ren just snarls at him and reaches in the window to pop the door open.

“Out.”

“Why? I’m not scheduled to be upstairs for another half hour. I think I’ll just sit here.”

“I can’t help you cover up that mess you’re calling a right eye if you don’t get out of the car. Right. Now.” Kylo reaches across him, close enough to kiss, and unbuckles his seat belt, pulling back before Hux can bite at him. Hux leaps out of the car after him, a hairs breadth away before Kylo can even take a step back.

“I wouldn’t need help covering up if you had just played by the rules, Ren.”

Kylo’s whisper is warm against Hux’s lips as he presses in for a kiss.

“Good morning, Hux.”

“Get your damn kit and come help me fix my face, you ass.”

* * *

 

At 25, Hux is the youngest board member of the First Order conglomerate, and the president of both STK Defense and Ion Pharmaceutical. He drives a Tesla, wears impeccable Italian suits, and has never been seen in public doing anything even mildly indecent. Kylo Ren, on the other hand, is a veritable disaster who holds onto his position at First Order through nothing but wealth and strategic genius. They are the most unlikely pair to ever take control of a billion-dollar company, but anyone with half a brain who had ever witnessed them together wasn’t surprised.

* * *

 

From the parking deck they took the elevator straight up the 30th floor. The massive corner office that they shared had an en-suite that they headed straight for, sweeping past the secretary with barely a glance.

“Twenty-two minutes.”

“Sunglasses, babe, let me see.”  Ren started to pull makeup out of his bag, tossing everything onto the counter.

Hux scowled at the pet name but pulled his glasses off anyway. His right cheekbone was livid and swollen, his eye nearly as bad. The bruising discolored part of his nose too, nearly black against Hux’s pale skin.

“Shit.”

“You think? Jesus, Ren, we have to be more careful.”

Ren nodded, eyes pensive, then stepped out into the main office.

“Adrienne, change the board meeting to the north east conference room, and seat Carolus so he’s looking into the sun.”

“Yes Mr. Ren, right away.” Adrienne turned back to her desk and started dialing the phone.

“I already have a migraine, what good is seating me in the sun going to do?”

“You can make some fuss about firing who ever chose the room, Adrienne will hand you your sunglasses, and your fucking face will be mostly hidden again.” Kylo slipped two small pills into his hand and ran the faucet for a glass of water.

“Hello darkness, my old friend.”

“It’s Vicodin, Hux, shut the fuck up. Just take them and let me start on your face.”

The first layer was a warm white, opaque and creamy, that completely obscured the black and purple splotches marring his face.

“Eight minutes.”

Ren painted a little more concealer onto Hux before answering.

“We might be late.”

“You’re fired.”

Ren scratched at the back of Hux’s neck for that. Hux retaliated by biting Ren’s split lip, breaking it open again.

Ren swore softly before Adrienne knocked on the door, letting them know they only had five minutes before the meeting.

“Adrienne, I want you in the meeting,” Hux called through the closed door. “I’m going to say some irritable things, and I’ll need you to hand me my sunglasses.”

“Which pair, Sir?”

“The 2014 Antonio Melani, I do believe.”

Adrienne didn’t answer, going to his desk to locate the obnoxiously large and full-tint sunglasses.

“This is going to have to do. Close your eyes, let me powder it.”

Hux obligingly closed his eyes, and let Kylo sneak a kiss in before applying the powder puff all over his face. Hux turned to regard his painted visage. With a curt nod, He strode out of the bathroom, Hux at his heels. Adrienne followed, her arms full of leather portfolios.

At the exterior door of the office stood Catherine Phasma, their bodyguard.

“Catherine, we are going to lunch at Marianne’s after the meeting, then I have a fitting at Prada. Kylo will be coming with us.”

“Are you punishing me, Hux?”

“Yes, darling.” The pet name was forced, acidic, and Kylo smiled through his teeth back at him.

* * *

 

The meeting went the same as all the others. No one questioned Hux’s eye, no one commented on Kylo’s choice of attire, and Kylo and Hux presented buy-out offers to two more of the remaining board members.

The makeup itched, but it lasted through lunch on the balcony, Hux sitting where the paparazzi couldn’t see his face, but could tell he was holding Ren’s hand.

The cameras below them flashed. They were practically celebrities outside the business world. Models and actresses and rich east coast debutantes were always cozying up to them, or leaving calling cards.

“We should get rings; the tabloids would love that. I can see it now – millionaires Carolus Hux and Kylo Ren to be wed after a whirlwind courtship.”

“Are you proposing?” Hux loosened his grip on Kylo’s hand a fraction.”

“Do you want me to propose?” Ren found Hux’s face unreadable beneath the makeup and sunglasses, but the stranglehold he had on his wine glass was telling.

“Certainly not. I won’t be getting engaged anywhere with less than three Michelin stars.” Hux was smiling now, his fingers tight around Ren’s once again.

“Would Le Bernardin do?”

“Only if Rupert is cooking.”

“Ms. Phasma, please let Adrienne know so she can schedule a reservation.”

* * *

 

Phasma drove them both, in Hux’s Tesla, to the Prada design studio after lunch. A young woman met them at the door, escorting them to the private show room. Emilio, Hux’s personal stylist at Prada, had set out a rack of clothes for him to try.

“Carolus, how good to see you again, it’s been too long!”

“It really has, I’m practically a season behind. Emilio, this is Kylo Ren, and you remember Ms. Catherine Phasma.”

“Of course, the lovely Catherine. I do wish you’d let me design for you. And Mr. Ren, a pleasure.”

Phasma smiled politely, but exchanged a dark glance with Kylo when the designer turned back to Hux.

“Carolus, what would you like to try first?”

“I’m afraid we are going to have to put your selections to the side for a moment. I have an original design job for you.”

Kylo cocked an eyebrow at Hux, but he was ignored.

“Absolutely! What are we making?” Emilio slid the rack of clothes away to reveal an impeccably kept desk.

“A wedding suit. I’m getting married.”

 

 


End file.
